


Bad Touch

by Makkavic4life



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bestiality, M/M, Masturbation, Non-human relationship, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 00:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14031834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makkavic4life/pseuds/Makkavic4life
Summary: Waking up alone in bed is hard for Victor. In more ways than one. He copes with it by some solo pleasure. Until it's reciprocated.





	Bad Touch

Mornings when Yuuri is not there are hard. Victor feels drained despite having slept through the night. His mind disregards the signals his body is sending, the lack of motivation causing him to stay longer in bed, well past the second and the third chirp of his alarm. With eyes still closed Victor reaches out to the other side of the bed, knowing all too well that his fingers will meet only the coolness of empty sheets. He misses Yuuri to the point where the intensity of it frightens him. His life is split into before-Yuuri period and the time they spent together. Victor cannot recall what it even was like – waking up to brew a coffee for one, going on with his day instead of returning to the bedroom, placing both cups on the bedside table and crawling back into the toasty warmness, snuggling behind Yuuri to breathe in the scent of his hair and trace the curve of his neck above the rumpled T-shirt with kisses. Yuuri would hum and lean back into the touch and if Victor was particularly successful at waking him up with insistent nibbles on his skin – even grind back, rolling his hips in the most delicious way. The image of Yuuri rubbing against him is particularly vivid and instantly brings Victor to hardness. Well, fuck.

Victor groans, turning on his back. He slides his hand down to cup himself through his underwear, biting his lip. His hand is such a poor substitute for Yuuri's clever fingers and he screws his eyes shut even harder, grasping onto the memory of Yuuri's caressing palm. Victor has always imagined Yuuri to be urgent, to rush things; instead, Yuuri always touches him slowly, even if they aim for a quickie, like he has all the time in the world to drive Victor insane. And he does, he really does, having Victor writhe and gasp and ache for more.

Victor curls his fingers around his shaft harder, pumping his cock unhurriedly, teasingly, just as Yuuri would. He loses his patience before long, yanking his briefs down with a moan. Closing his fist around the shaft, he tugs and pulls, feeling the soft skin slide over the harder core. Victor arches into it, pushing his heels into the mattress. A jolt of sweetness makes him pant and he throws the blanket off himself, suddenly finding its weight suffocating. He uses his left hand to hold the base of his cock while the right one twists around the tip, pulling the moist foreskin down and lightly tapping the head.

His stomach quivers when Victor imagines Yuuri's lips making its way down his torso, fingers still playing with his cock. He can almost sense the ghost tickle of Yuuri's breath on him. Except that it feels all too real. Victor raises his head, peeking through his lashes to find Makkachin panting over him. He must have been disturbed by his movements and the noises, and Victor should really get up and shoo him out of the bedroom. The throbbing in his cock shifts the priorities and Victor continues pumping it. It's just his dog, hardly someone to be ashamed of.

The hot breath on his moist skin feels pleasant enough. Victor doesn't want to indulge himself, yet he subconsciously aligns the pace of his strokes with the puffs of Makka's exhales. He moves over, sniffing Victor's crotch and Victor feels a prickle of wicked excitement. It's beyond wrong but he's starved for any attention, any kind of contact. Even more, he enjoys being watched.

He lets the things unfold, not encouraging Makka but not forbidding him to express that kind of curiosity either. Still, Victor isn't prepared for a swipe of a warm tongue on his fingers. He moans, growing even harder like he would just before his release. The next lick lands right on the sensitive head and Victor whimpers, a gush of precum dribbling down the glans. He shouldn't be doing it, but his mind is buzzing with desire and his hips buck up, craving another lick, however rough and artless. And they come, uneven and hot. Victor shakes, sweat running down his face as Makka unknowingly drives him mad with need, curling his tongue around the swollen cock.

Victor's fist makes a squelching sound. It's wet and messy and perfect. Victor thrusts into his hand, grunting and clenching his buttocks, seeking his release. He groans Yuuri's name, his chest tightening at the sound of his own voice chanting it like a prayer. The pressure builds up in him but Victor tries to hold back, teetering on the edge. Images flash through his mind, none of them linked to the present as his mind tries to block away the perversion of what he's doing now. Victor thinks of Yuuri, his beautiful Yuuri sprawled naked on top of him, close to him, pushing inside of him.

The idea of Yuuri finding him like that, cock in hand and Makkachin eagerly lapping up the precum from his fingers shoots through Victor's brain like a hot needle. He sobs, the shame making the pressure burst of his body.

Victor curls onto himself, raising up as he cums. Victor gasps for air. His eyes water as hot cum sploshes onto his fingers and belly.

He all but collapses back onto the bed, trembling uncontrollably. He feels sore from the intensity of his release, but then there's also a tug of remorse. Victor pushes the thought to the back of his mind – again – as he looks around for the box of tissues. He was certain he left it near the bed, but he cannot see it and... Oh. Makka cleans him up, his long tongue swiping across the skin to pick up the evidence of Victor's depravity. Victor pushes him away when he gets too sensitive. Makkachin responds with a yap but sits back, thumping his tail. Victor hides his face in the crook of his arm, willing himself not to dwell of what has just happened.

Mornings when Yuuri is not there are hard and Victor misses him terribly. Yet he promises himself to never burden Makkachin with his solitude again, even though he doesn't believe himself for a second.

 


End file.
